Schulze, Dallas (40 page)

“I still can’t get used to the idea that you’re mother to two
children,” Susan said as she set the tea kettle on the stove. “They seemed very
polite and well spoken when we met them yesterday, don’t you think, Douglas?”

He made some noncommittal noise that could have been agreement or
indifference. He moved restlessly around the room, picking up a spoon and
setting it down again before moving to look out the window. Lila watched him
out the corner of her eye. She knew him well enough to know that he had
something on his mind.

“Gavin and Angel are wonderful children. It took Gavin a little
while to accept me. I think he was afraid that I might try to replace his
mother. But we came to an understanding. And Angel is just as sweet as she
looks. I can’t imagine a more loving child.”

“You’re very fortunate,” Susan said.

“I think so.” Lila poked her fingers into the dough, gauging
whether she’d kneaded it enough.

“I want you to come home with us,” Douglas announced abruptly.

“What?” Lila’s head jerked up, her eyes wide and startled.

“You heard me. I want you to come home with us. Immediately.”

“Douglas, you promised me you wouldn’t bring this up,” Susan said,
looking distressed.

“I can’t very well stand here and watch her work like a servant
for him and listen to her talk about raising his children as if they were hers
and not do something about it,” Douglas protested. He took a quick, agitated
step away from the door, as if he might sweep Lila up and carry her to safety
immediately. “You don’t even have to bother to pack. I’ll send someone to do it
for you later. If we leave now, we can be in Denver tonight and on our way home
tomorrow.”

“This is my home now, Douglas,” Lila said carefully. She wiped her
hands on the apron she wore and caught hold of her temper. He was speaking out
of concern for her, she reminded herself. He didn’t mean to sound so incredibly
overbearing. “And I think of Gavin and Angel as my children now. I can’t just
walk off and leave them without a word. I’m married to Bishop. You have to
accept that, whether you like it or not.”

“I don’t like it,” he snapped. “I don’t like it at all. You should
never have married him. I should have insisted that you stay at home.”

“As I recall, you didn’t give me much choice about marrying
Bishop,” Lila pointed out in a dangerously calm voice. “I seem to remember that
you simply informed me that you’d arrange for the ceremony to take place as
quickly as possible.”

“I was wrong,” he said with a snarl. “I should have given it more
thought. And even if you married him, you could have stayed at home. I should
at least have insisted on that.”

Lila leaned across the table toward her brother, her eyes bright
green with anger. “It wasn’t your place to insist on anything at that point. It
was my choice to come West with Bishop.”

“Fine.” Douglas glared at her, every bit as angry as she was. “You
made your choice and you came West. Now it’s time to come home.”

“This
is
my home,” she said, raising her voice.

“Don’t be such an idiot!” Douglas’s voice climbed to match hers.

“You’re coming home with us and that’s final.”

“No.”

“You are pigheaded as a mule. Why can’t you just admit that you
hate it here?”

“You’re stubborn as an ox and about as bright. I am staying right
here. And if you can’t accept that, you can ... you can go to the devil,” she
finished, her voice climbing to something near to a shout.

“Fine. I’m leaving but I’ll be back. I’m going to talk some sense
into you if it’s the last thing I do.”

“It very well may be.”

Ignoring the threat implicit in her words, Douglas looked at his
wife, who’d sat silently observing the battle of will between brother and
sister. “Are you coming?”

“Not right now,” she told him calmly. “I think I’ll finish my tea
first. But you run along, dear, and I’ll see you later at the hotel.”

The dismissal in her tone made Douglas grind his teeth together.
For a moment, Lila thought he might snatch his wife up and carry her off, but
then he spun on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen. A few seconds later
the front door slammed behind him.

“Would you like some tea?” Susan asked as calmly as if the scene
had never happened.

“Thank you.” Lila attacked the already kneaded dough, pummeling it
viciously, working out her frustration on the resilient lump. At the other end
of the table, Susan poured her a cup of tea, added a spoonful of sugar to it
and stirred it, all without the least sign of agitation.

“As you may have already guessed, this visit was my idea,” she
said when Lila had ceased abusing the bread dough. “I know how much Douglas
hates the idea of there being any sort of gap between you.”

“He doesn’t seem to have much interest in closing that gap,” Lila
said sharply. She shaped the mound of dough into a smooth ball and settled it
in a greased bowl to rise.

“This has been very difficult for him,” Susan said.

“It hasn’t exactly been easy for me,” Lila snapped. She covered
the dough with a towel made from a flour sack and turned to look at her
sister-in-law. “I’m the one who had my whole life turned upside down. Douglas
didn’t have to move thousands of miles away and leave behind everything he
knew. Douglas didn’t find himself stepfather to two children he didn’t even
know existed. Not that I’d trade Gavin and Angel for anything in the world,”
she added quickly. “I have no regrets about them.”

“I can understand that,” Susan said. “They do seem like very nice
children. We were surprised when you wrote to tell us about them. Bishop had
never mentioned being married before.”

“The first I knew of it was when he showed up with the children in
tow.”

“You must have been furious.” Susan took a sip of tea.

“I was upset,” Lila admitted. She was faintly surprised to
remember just how angry she’d been. Gavin and Angel had become such an integral
part of her life that she couldn’t imagine life without them. She took off her
apron and draped it over the back of a chair. Choosing a seat, she settled
across the table from her sister-in-law and picked up her cup. “Bishop didn’t
plan on bringing them with us to Colorado, you know. But when he saw how
unhappy they were, he wouldn’t leave them with their grandmother.”

“Admirable.”

“He cares a great deal for them, though I’m not sure Gavin has
figured that out yet,” Lila admitted, thinking of the tension between the two
of them. “I think the main problem is that they’re both as stubborn and
strong-willed as mules.”

Susan smiled fleetingly. “A trait they share with your brother.”

“And their father.” Lila brushed a lock of hair back from her
forehead, suddenly aware of being profoundly tired. She hadn’t slept much the
night before. Instead, she’d watched the moonlight paint drifting patterns
across the ceiling and thought about the many twists and turns her life had
taken lately. Sometime after she heard the mantel clock chime midnight, Bishop
had reached out, sliding one arm beneath her and pulling her against him. She’d
curled into his hold, her head on his shoulder, her body pressed to his,
drawing such comfort from his nearness that she forgot all about her
disapproval of his lack of sleeping attire.

“Douglas just wants you to be happy,” Susan said, interrupting
Lila’s thoughts.

“I know that,” Lila admitted with an unhappy sigh. “I suppose,
after everything I’ve done, I should be grateful that he cares at all. But I’m
not a child for him to order about. I’m a married woman with a home and two
children who depend on me. I can’t desert them, even if I wanted to.”

“And Bishop?” Susan probed gently. “What about Bishop?”

“Bishop.” Lila stood up and went to check on the rising bread as
if the yeast might suddenly have sprung to mad, impetuous life and caused it to
overflow the bowl in a matter of minutes. It hadn’t done anything of the sort,
of course, but she needed a moment to gather her thoughts.
What about
Bishop?
Such a simple question but she didn’t know the answer.

“Are you happy, Lila?” Susan asked when Lila didn’t respond to the
first question.

“Yes.” She was surprised by how easily the answer came. Turning to
look at Susan, Lila smoothed one hand over her stomach, unconsciously seeking
reassurance from her unborn child. “Yes, I am happy. I suppose that’s hard for
you to believe, considering the circumstances.”

“No.” Susan reached for the teapot and refreshed her cup. She
smiled at Lila, her eyes gleaming with an endearing touch of mischief. “I know
it’s bad manners to remind you, but I did tell you that I thought you and
Bishop could have a good marriage. He’s a good man.”

“Yes, he is,” Lila said, and knew it was true. “Though he
certainly can be very annoying.”

Susan waved one hand dismissively. “That goes without saying. He’s
a man, and they can’t help but be annoying sometimes.”

Laughing a little, Lila sat back down at the table and reached for
her lukewarm tea. “I’ll keep that in mind next time Bishop makes me so mad that
I want to forget all about being a lady and kick him in the shins.”

“His shins are bound to be harder than your toes. You’d only hurt
yourself.”

Lila’s laughter came more easily this time. “You’re probably
right.”

Susan’s smile faded and she reached across the table, touching the
back of Lila’s hand. “All Douglas wants—all we
both
want—is to be sure
you’re happy. And if Bishop makes you happy, I’ll see to it that Douglas
doesn’t cause any trouble.”

If
Bishop
made her happy? Lila stared at Susan, struck by
the other woman’s assumption that Bishop was responsible for her contentment.
It was a ridiculous idea. She’d only be happy because of him if she loved him.
Which she didn’t. Of course she didn’t. Did she? Good heavens, she couldn’t
love him. Not when she had no clue at all as to what he felt about her.

***

Bishop wasn’t at all surprised when Douglas strode into the jail
like a man bent on starting a war. On some level, he’d known this confrontation
was inevitable. There was too much left unsaid between them. Bart Lewis had
been dozing in a straightback chair tilted back against the wall. Douglas’s
entrance startled him awake, and the chair’s front legs hit the floor with
teeth jarring suddenness. He blinked blearily at Douglas, looking like a sleepy
bird surprised in its nest. Bishop took a moment to hope that Bart never found
himself in a situation where his life depended on quick thinking.

“It’s almost noon,” Bishop told his deputy. “Why don’t you go get
yourself some lunch?”

“You want I should bring you back something?” Bart asked as he
rose and slouched his way to the door.

“Thanks but I think I’ll go home for lunch today, say hello to my
wife.” This last was added solely for Douglas’s benefit, and he immediately
regretted giving into the childish impulse to pour salt in what was obviously
still an open wound. Bart looked vaguely surprised but didn’t comment, for
which Bishop was grateful. The deputy nodded to Douglas and left, picking up
his hat on the way out the door.

“What can I do for you, Douglas?” Bishop asked, rising from his
chair and circling the desk. “You’re not here to report a crime, I hope?”

“I’m taking Lila home with me,” Douglas said, ignoring the baiting
question.

Bishop went still as he considered the implications of Douglas’s
statement. Had Lila said she wanted to go back to Pennsylvania? A few days ago
that might not have surprised him, but he thought things had changed between
them. Last night she’d turned into his arms as if there were nowhere else she’d
rather be.

“Lila
is
home,” he said quietly.

“No, she’s not. This dusty collection of shabby buildings is no
place for a lady. I know it and Lila knows it. She’s just too pigheaded to
admit it.”

So this wasn’t Lila’s idea. Bishop felt as if a great weight had
been lifted from his chest. She hadn’t gone to her brother and begged him to
take her back to Pennsylvania.

“You didn’t come here to ask me to insist that Lila leave with
you, did you? That doesn’t seem a real likely thing for me to do, does it?” he
asked.

“No, I guess it doesn’t,” Douglas said with undisguised
bitterness. “I had the wild idea that I might appeal to your better instincts.
I should have known better.”

Bishop’s jaw tightened but he refused to rise to the bait. “She’s
my wife.”

“I know that,” Douglas snapped, biting off the words as if they
left a foul taste in his mouth. “And I know you’ve every right to keep her
here.”

“Keep her here?” Bishop thrust his fingers through his hair and
tightened his grip on his temper. “You make it sound like I’ve locked her in
one of the cells back there.”

“She might be safer there!” Douglas strode to the window and
glared out at the quiet street. “This is no place for a lady, Bishop, and you
know it. Look at it. It’s nothing but dirt and false front buildings. This
isn’t the kind of life she’s used to.”